Cowritten with mid-k-night, originally from an RP on tumblr XD

The sun was dipping ever closer to the horizon as the Egyptian day drew to a close. The desert sands sparkled with grainy beauty, long shadows cast by the buildings on the outskirts of the city the perfect camouflage for the thief who walked their streets that night. White hair shone out in the darkness, pale skin just visible before the skilled thief hid himself once again in the shadows of the building. He was stalking his prey.

It didn't take much longer to find him. Marik was seated in the garage with his precious motorbike, of course. His familiar blond hair fell around his face as he leaned over, brows furrowed, working on something or other to do with that stupid machine. The thief narrowed his eyes. At least he hadn't been noticed, so he slunk into the garage and hugged the walls, remaining hidden in the shadows. With a slight smirk, the thief lowered himself and removed a bottle of water from his inner pocket. He splashed it quickly out of the shadows, sloshing water all over Marik's head before he ducked back into the shadows, hiding.

Marik's reaction was priceless. He shrieked, grabbing at his hair and shaking out the damp strands with a horrified expression. "H-Hey! Don't you throw stuff at me! I am not a target! Especially not for water, horrible cold stuff…"

Bakura allowed a low dark chuckle to escape him from the shadows. "What is it Ishtar? Can't stand the cold?"

Marik snarled and rolled his eyes. "Yes, because everyone loves getting wet cold water chucked at them, don't they?"

A wide white smirk moved slowly in the shadows, an equally dark voice mocked, "Yes… Of course, especially Egyptian warm bronze-skinned ones."

"Wait…" Marik's tone turned suspicious and he leaned forwards, narrowing his eyes. "Who is that? Do I know you?"

The shadow moved too quickly with feline dexterity, the amused teasing voice rose once again from another spot. "Do you? …Ishtar?" In the corner of the half-smile appeared a shining fang.

Marik jumped, spinning quickly when the voice suddenly sounded from somewhere else. Its dark tone was somehow familiar. Marik growled. "Thief, is that you? You're not scary."

The figure moved rapidly again. Pale fingers moved against a strand of Marik's blond hair barely making it blow. "I disagree."

Marik hissed. He span around quickly, glaring at the pale form he could barely see through the darkness. "It is you, isn't it? What do you want?!"

"What does it look like? I'm having fun bothering you… So. Much. Fun" The thief started to move around Marik making small sound hints from where he walked. "You see, I'm deeply bored… Bored of this long life and you're one of my best ways of entertainment."

Marik stiffened, eyes jumping around as he tried to follow where the thief went. He hissed lowly, hands clenching into fists by his sides. "Well, I'm glad to know you enjoy my company so much, Bakura," Marik scoffed sarcastically.

Brown eyes narrowed. "As if." The steps got closer. "I just don't have anything better to do for the moment." The bright grin was coming further to the place where Marik was standing. "… And I don't see you going anywhere at the moment either." The movements of the shadow weren't as unpredictable as they seemed at the beginning; it became obvious that were meant to corner the Egyptian.

Marik moved back, constantly avoiding Bakura's flitting movements. He cursed inwardly, however, when he realised that the clever thief had managed to trap him in a corner.

"You're not funny, Bakura," Marik growled through clenched teeth. "If you're bored, go drown a puppy. Leave me alone." He shivered at Bakura's nearness, hating that he couldn't see the thief properly in the flickering shadows. He felt trapped, knowing he couldn't escape now.

The thief's smooth movements were getting slower and for a moment an awkward silence surrounded them, strands of white passed through the shadows and a loud laugh sounded after. "Don't tell me, the god-complex kid is scared?" A sudden whisper came to Marik's ear along with the natural scent the host of the spirit had. "Are you?"

Marik's eyes widened and he started in shock, holding back a scream and hating himself for it. He would never, ever, show any weakness in front of the thief. Instead, a snarl passed his lips as he quickly spun around, one hand shooting out to grab Bakura's shoulder. Marik's eyes were sharp as flint.

"I am not scared of you," Marik sneered derisively. "A petty thief, that's all you are. Why on earth would I fear you?"

Bakura's eyes landed to the hand on his shoulder and went back to the owner with an apathetic gesture, but when they met the lilac the amusement went back to his now partially visible face, leaning his face forward to get a good visibility of the Egyptian's face he spoke. "Could a petty thief take these?" In his thin fingers he held keys out of Marik's reach. Marik's motorcycle keys. "You should have been scared little Marik." After saying this, the agile thief ran to the opposite side with his prize in hand.

Marik's eyes widened in shocked surprise when he saw his keys swinging from Bakura's slender fingers. Before he could reach out and grab them, however, Bakura had disappeared, swallowed once again in the shadows. Marik cursed loudly. He ran forwards, making for the place where he had seen Bakura disappear. "Thief! You get back here and give me my keys, now!"

The laughter now invaded the way. "If you want them you should be faster than that, Ishtar!" The steps were quick and zigzagged but his voice was loud and clear, it was almost like the breadcrumbs for Marik to find his way and his words were as teasing as the beginning of this uncertain and wicked game. "You know, a little scared kid like you shouldn't be outside in the dark"

Marik's eyes glared in anger as he darted towards Bakura. He snarled angrily, fists clenched tightly by his sides as he ran towards the voice that was trickling back to him through the darkness. "You idiot! I am not a child, and I'm certainly not scared of you!"

Running outside, Marik drew to a sharp halt and spotted white hair in front of him. He growled and pounced, aiming straight for Bakura as he snarled, "Just give me back my keys, thief!"

The thief didn't seemed startled, in a movement he span around to face him and let Marik tackle with the minimum of damage, again looking at his eyes with the same obnoxious smirk, a hand slipped in his pocket to take out the keys, wriggling them. "If you want them maybe we can make a deal, you know you could give me something in exchange, just like old times, but this time…" his eyes narrowed, "This time you have to give it first, since my last deal with you ended not-so-well-paid."

Marik growled, glaring at the keys dangling from Bakura's hand. He glowered at the pale thief, eyes glittering dangerously through the dark night, the cold air chilling around them. "I owe you nothing, thief. You didn't uphold your end of our last bargain, so give me back my keys, now. Before I get really angry."

A flash of anger passed through Bakura's eyes "You could be more grateful to me you bastard, without me your dear big brother would have a hole in the middle of his face tattoo!" He pushed Marik with both hands. "Not only that, I was engulfed by the shadows because of you and your stupid dark personality! You certainly owe me something."

Marik's eyes flared as he fell back under Bakura's harsh shove. Marik stumbled but managed to keep his feet under him, wobbling wildly but without falling over. He lowered his brows into a dark glare, speaking lowly at Bakura. "You lost, Bakura. You said you'd fight for me, and you lost."

Drawing in a careful breath, Marik spoke again, his hands balled into fists. "You made me lose my body. You abandoned me to the shadows. I would say I owe you nothing at all."

"I abandoned YOU?" Bakura's threatening voice rose, it lacked the sinister tone that once had his merged personality with the demon Zorc, but it didn't lack malevolence. "As always it's all about you, isn't it? Well I have news for you Ishtar, it isn't, you were the one who betrayed me and now I'm the one making the rules!"

With an abrupt movement the thief managed to disappear in the shadows again, only a few moments later his voice rang from another spot. "I should have left poor big guy Rishid to perish, next to you, and take the Sennen Rod from the cold dead hands of your personal darkness."

Marik gasped, Bakura's words lancing straight through him and cutting him straight to the quick. His head whipped around, trying to see Bakura's dim shape through the shadows. He could see nothing.

"Get out here!" Marik shouted, glaring angrily around him. "Bakura! You never would have left me to die. You didn't have to risk your soul to save me, but you did it anyway. You can't blame me because you lost! Now get out here and face me, or are you too scared?"

A dark laugh was close to Marik's ear. "Who is scared? You just can't see what is right before your eyes, let me enlighten you, you might be comfortable with your "good boy way of living" but you don't fool me Ishtar, you're the one who is scared, scared of yourself, scared of being eaten by darkness again." Something brushed against Marik's shoulder blade and the sound went away one more time.

Marik shivered. Each one of Bakura's words was true, and that fact both scared and shocked Marik to the bone. How could the pale thief still read him so easily? Marik had thought he was better at hiding his emotions than that…

Gathering his thoughts, Marik managed to glare, though his voice was still shaky. He span around and shot a hand out, managing to grab Bakura's shoulder and keep the thief still. "You've got no right to say that to me," Marik growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You know nothing of me. Don't you dare talk to me like that."

"Wrong." The pale figure emerged from the shadows, getting closer. "I know everything, I know of your big stupid ego, of the panic attacks you have when you get close to the underground, the outbursts of rage, the paintings, the fact that you aren't the good guy you want to show the world you are, the way you don't fit in this world… The way you never fitted." He shoved faintly the hand off his shoulder, studying discreetly the eyes of the Egyptian behind a deep scowl. "Your threats mean nothing to me Marik, I don't have anything to lose anymore, you should take the trading offer."

Marik ground his teeth together in fury, his whole body trembling as Bakura reeled off every single true fact about Marik. How could he know so much? It wasn't fair! Fear was truly coursing through Marik's veins now, making him visibly tremble. The air was crisp and cold, cutting through Marik just as easily as Bakura's words.

Marik screwed his eyes shut. He snarled. "Fine. You're right. I have never belonged here, just as you haven't, thief. But what trade could I possibly offer?" Marik's eyes flew open, searing straight into Bakura. "I have nothing. What more could you want from me?"

Bakura's eyes gleamed, he never looked so alive in Ryou's body; his glance was always deep and distant, icy and inert, but now, for the first time in all these years, his face was relaxed, he looked free of heavy ancient burdens and vicious monsters. "Are you gonna listen now? Wasn't it easier this way without being overdramatic?" Bakura inhaled deeply and turn his back to Marik, something he used to do back in Battle City when the thief avoided disclosing his intentions. "Ishizu," He murmured, "She still works at the museum, right?"

"You were the one who started all the drama!" Marik burst, still trembling at how easily Bakura had managed to get under his skin. He closed his eyes and drew in several deep breaths, allowing his heart to slow down and his muscles to relax slightly before he risked opening them and addressing Bakura again. The pale thief had turned his back on Marik, which meant he was hiding or plotting something. Probably both. Frowning suspiciously, Marik moved around Bakura until he was facing him again. He spoke, tone sharp. "Yes, she does. What of it?"

Bakura was absorbed in his own thinking when he noticed he was facing Marik again, now the one who seemed uneasy was him, but he managed to recover quickly, not wanting to allow Marik to get into him. The thief frowned back. "I need you to look for something for me in the museum, it isn't something too precious so it must be stored inside, probably classified as something with unknown purpose, something that is not valuable enough to put on a beautiful display… If you find it I want you to take it for me, and before you start another drama, it's not stealing when I'm the rightful owner of that object."

Marik frowned, his brows knitting tightly together as he took in Bakura's words. The thief looked shifty - well, more shifty than he normally did, anyway - so Marik was naturally suspicious. He narrowed his eyes, keeping his gaze trained on Bakura all the time. "And what is this object you would have me steal? I don't care about your excuses, it's still stealing, and my sister won't appreciate me putting her job in danger."

The thief snapped "Excuses?! By the gods you're making this deal or I'll throw your precious motorcycle to a cliff! How dare you to..?" He silenced himself raising his own fist, forcefully trying to maintain composure, he knew a thread of harsh responses would lead the stubborn Egyptian to enclosure in a barrier of arguments again, so he growled impatiently. "Listen to me well, Ishtar," he allowed himself to breathe with pursed lips "This is an object that won't be missed, is not flamboyant or made of gold, silver or electrum, it's just very, very old, it's an iron stick with an ankh handle and small irregular protuberances, it mustn't be difficult to find since it must be an unclassified object, and this is very important, this must fit in it." The thief grasped between three white fingers a very old golden ring with a purple gem, around the stone it had small metal prones, looked like those had to fit somewhere "When you bring me my object I'll give you your beloved keys."

Marik tilted his head, eyeing Bakura carefully. His brows were furrowed and he bit down on the inside of his cheek, carefully turning over Bakura's proposal. This object, whatever it was, clearly meant something to the pale thief, and in Marik's experience that meant it couldn't be good. But, on the other hand, Marik did sort of owe Bakura for helping him in Battle City. Plus, Marik's motorcycle keys were still swinging from Bakura's fingers.

Marik growled. "Fine. But first, tell me what this ankh does and what you need it for. And then give me that gold ring, so I can make sure I am stealing you the right object." Marik's foot tapped impatiently on the floor as he glared at Bakura, ignoring the jumping feeling in his chest at how close the pale thief was standing to him.

The thief smirked wide and seem satisfied with Marik's conclusion, however he looked reluctant to share anything with the boy, and he knew Marik didn't trust him fully as he did once, somehow that thinking tugged him from the inside, he let himself come into the shadows again and in a moment he was far away. "Let's put it this way Ishtar, I'm trading your motorcycle for my house." His voice went away while he still was speaking. "Meet me here in three days".

Marik growled as Bakura disappeared back into the shadows, his voice fading into silence. The world felt empty now, like something was missing, and Marik was affronted by Bakura's constant demands. He spoke into the darkness. "Three days. You'd better be here, thief."

With a sigh, Marik dropped his gaze. A glint of gold caught his eye through the shadows and Marik strode forwards, recognising the gold ring Bakura had shown him, it was left on the floor in the spot the thief was standing, Marik bent down, his fingers closing around the cool metal. He lifted it to his lips and kissed it once. "I do this for you, Bakura. Gods know I don't let anyone else tell me what to do."

The thief observed from a distance when Marik made his way, he remembered too clearly their short-lived partnership, and the instant trust and complicity they shared, he didn't hesitate on Marik's demands before, the thief didn't have second doubts on hurting himself for the Egyptian, and now looking from the distance it seemed like it was yesterday, dying together is a bond that cannot be dissolved too easily, but still, the boy was hurt, broken, never recovered, it was necessary for the 'evil' spirit to guard himself this time, what they shared was strong and hurtful for them both. He half smiled at the person Marik became, an adult now, and he was so much alike at the man the thief once was… Is… Now it was all over and in time to recover the life he was denied, without the screaming of the spirits of his people, or the itching it caused being possessed by a demon, and once again Bakura resumed his steps to come back another day.

Marik released a sigh, clutching the gold ring close to him for another moment before he placed it securely in his jacket pocket. He rose back to his feet. Marik shot another glance around the shadows, looking for any flash of white, but all was still and dark. No wonder - Bakura had always been good at hiding.

Marik began to tread the streets back to his siblings' house, knowing he had been out for far too long already. Once home he went straight up to his bedroom, ignoring his siblings' questions, and flopped straight down onto the bed. He placed the gold ring under his pillow. Trust Bakura to always have some gold on him. As he rolled onto his back, Marik thought over his encounter with Bakura again and wondered just exactly what the pale thief had planned. It wouldn't take Marik long to steal the ankh Bakura had asked for - he often wandered the museum unchecked, as the guards all knew his sister - and he had to admit that a part of him thrilled with excitement at working with Bakura once again.

Three days almost seemed like too long before he could see the pale thief again.